Time By Minutes Slips Away
by Laneta C
Summary: When Dean woke up tied to a chair, he didn't know what to expect, but it definitely wasn't this.Rating for some cursing because Dean ignored his finishing school teachers. Implied Character Death.


Author's note

This is the first Supernatural fic I've ever written so please, leave feedback.

Disclaimer: I own no beautiful sexy Winchester boys. Excuse me while I mourn this fact.

**Time By Minutes Slips Away**

"What the fuck?"

These were the first words out of Dean's mouth as he awakened upon finding himself tied, rather tightly he might add, to a wooden chair in the middle of his hotel room. Last he knew he was watching the lovely bouncing babes of Baywatch while his geek boy brother clickety-clicked away on his ever-present computer. Speaking of geek boy brothers…

"Sammy, what the hell is going on? Why am I tied up? And why the hell are you just sitting there? If I knew you got your jollies off this way, I would have gotten you your own room." Dean glared at the quiet man sitting on the bed staring at Dean, not helping Dean, not untying Dean, just staring, which, quite frankly left him less than happy.

At Sam's continued silence in the face of his questioning, Dean grumbled obscenities under his breath and tried to twist his wrists free of the rope around them. When all he succeeded in doing was giving himself a harsh case of rope burn, he really let the curses fly. After all, rope burn was only okay on other people, specifically feisty redheads in Detroit who liked being tied up, and would do pretty much anything in exchange for a little bondage session.

_Which reminds me, we're not that far from Michigan; hope Sammy won't mind a little detour. Boy, that Traci chick, I sure as hell won't be forgetting her anytime soon._

Shaking his head of pleasant but ill-timed thoughts, Dean attempted to focus on the situation at hand. Getting a hard-on while your little brother had you tied up was not a good message to send across.

"Yo, Sammy. Hey man, you wanna untie me? You're little joke was hilarious; you really got me back for locking you out of the car last week. Ha Ha. Can we be finished now?"

"He was in my dream last night."

Sam's statement hung dark and heavy in the silent room.

"What?" Dean craned his neck towards his brother, hoping he'd heard wrong, because quite frankly, he had no clue what the fuck Sasquatch was talking about.

"Last night, I had a dream. The demon came to me and told me to kill some hunter named Gary Jiram." Sam spoke in emotionless monotone, still staring at his brother, eyes focused and unmoving.

Dean's mouth gaped open and closed softly, hoping the right words, reassurances would fall from his tongue without him having to figure them out.

"Oh…. shit."

Not exactly what he was hoping for, but it certainly fit the situation. Let's try that again, shall we?

"Umm, wow, dude that sucks. But hey, umm, it's cool. You didn't go kill the guy did ya?" _Please God, say no._

"No, but I know it was like the dreams the others have had. You know, the people who _have_ gone out and killed because the demon told them to."

Dean chuckled deep and hearty from his belly. Of course, his brother has a demon give him instructions, a demon easily able to sway others if past events were any indications, Sam _doesn't_ follow through on those instructions and yet somehow still convinces himself that this makes him evil. Dean knew that that was where this conversation was headed, like most conversations of late. Dean I'm evil, Dean what if I hurt you, Dean don't let me change, blah blah blah blah.

"God, Sammy is that it? So you had a dream about the demon, big deal. You didn't kill the guy, why do we need to be worried? Man, if it was that easy to ignore, those other idiots musta been real wusses. Can't even ignore a simple evil instruction from a demon, what is the world coming to these days?"

Dean attempted to bring a hand up to wipe his tearing eyes. Laughing tears, bitch, Dean Winchester doesn't cry. _Oh yeah, ropes, forgot about that. _

"By the way, I'm not totally clear on the role of the hog-tie in this conversation, but now that it's over you think you could, you know, cut me loose."

"It wasn't easy." Sam stated, still matter-of-fact and motionless as a statue. Dean waited for the rest of what had to be some sort of speech or something, but Sam remained silent.

"Dude, you think you could speak more than a few words at a time? This little glimpse into Sammy-brain is getting kinda exhausting, speed the ride along a little." He was really beginning to get frustrated, why the hell couldn't Sam just freakin' untie him already.

"It wasn't easy, saying no to the demon. Actually it was really fucking hard. I woke up with a pretty gnarly nosebleed, guess my head likes dream-battles about as much as I do."

"Ok, so it was hard, that sucks, man. It sucks a lot. But you know you can do it. Isn't that the most important thing, no matter how hard it is?" Dean was really starting to get confused, but not scared, no way, Dean Winchester does not do scared.

"It's more than that. It was hard, yeah, but also…" Finally, a change, Sam's voice fell several octaves and his eyes strayed from Dean's to aim uneasily at his jeans.

"What, Sammy, what is it?" No, Dean Winchester definitely did not do cracking voices. He was just a little parched, that's it.

"I…I…fuck, Dean, I wanted to do it. It felt like I was in that dream forever, for hours all I could think about was the power I would feel slicing that guys head off with just my mind. It felt fuckin' great. Felt better than anything I've ever done in my life, better than all those people we've saved, better than Jess, better than anything. I can still feel it, itching inside of me. It's like a gnat, buzzing in my ear. Do it Sam, it will feel good, think of the power, think of the satisfaction." Sam's knuckles gripped white on the edge of the bed, struggling to stay still, afraid of the vulgar pleasure his hands would portray at the thought of Gary Jiram's blood soaking through them.

Dean was officially speechless. _What do I say? I can't handle this. Oh God, maybe I just imagined everything he just said._

The older Winchester squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to find upon opening the ceiling of the room. After all, this was just a dream, right? Right?

But there was Sam, all dorky, wussy, stupid hair, six-foot four of him. He looked the same as always, ratty old jacket that didn't quite reach his wrists, 25 freakin' layers of shirts, and torn jeans. Yeah, he was the same, but as his little brother raised his gaze, Dean saw something that scared the shit out of him (Okay, so maybe he did do scared, so what, shut up bitch.) Sammy's eyes, Sammy's stupid puppy dog eyes that always looked so innocent and genuine held a small flash of darkness, pure deep darkness, the kind that was more red than black and left the feeling of cold sweat drifting down the hollow of Dean's neck. It was just a flash, miniscule, barely noticeable, but there, definitely there.

"But…Sammy, that was just in the dream right? You're not really still thinking about it right? God, Sam, tell me you're not still thinking about it?" Okay so maybe his voice did crack occasionally.

Sam's eyes shimmered with what must have been tears, though for the life of him, Dean couldn't figure out why. After all, this wasn't a big deal, so it was hard, so Sam had had a pretty fucking believable dream, didn't mean anything, did it?

"I wish I could tell you I'm not and for the most part that would be the truth. But I am, a small part of me can't stop thinking about it, wondering."

"Okay, okay, we can deal with that, Sammy. I'm not sure how but we can. We'll figure it out, we always do." Dean voice was filled with desperation, and the red burns on his hands began to bleed as he struggled valiantly to loosen his binds. He needed to go to Sam, needed to touch his brother's shoulder, the customary Winchester-patented "It'll all be alright" gesture. _God, why the fuck did he tie me up?_

"Stop it, Dean, you're not getting out of those. I did learn from you and Dad after all. I know how to keep someone where I want them" Sam said, concern filling his eyes at the sight of his brother's blood.

Good, concern, it's still Sammy. See he's fine, nothing to worry about.

"Sam, why am I tied up? Why do you want to keep me here?" Dean stopped struggling with the ropes and focused his attention on his brother's words.

"So you won't stop me from doing what I have to do?"

"What, Sam, I do not like the way that sounds? What the fuck are you gonna do?!," his struggles with the ties returned stronger than ever, "Let me out of these damn things! Sammy I mean it! Let me go!"

Dean could feel himself losing control. He did not like where this conversation was headed. He had to stop it. He had to get out of these ridiculous binds.

"Dean, stop, please, stop. I don't want to do it like this. I don't want you yelling and angry. I don't want it to end like this." Sam clearly did cracking voices as well, plus he definitely cried, if the tear falling down his cheek was any indication.

"End?! What the hell does that mean? Sam what do you think you're going to do?" Dean said, denial and disbelief clouding his words.

"I'm going to stop myself before I hurt someone."

"What? Okay, I definitely don't like the way that sounds. Fuck, Sammy, let me go. You're talking crazy, man. You don't have to stop anything. You're fine, Sam, we're fine. Everything's going to be okay, man, I swear." Dean shook his head rapidly back and forth telling himself over and over It's gonna be fine It's gonna be fine. He couldn't handle the idea that it might not be.

"Dean, please, listen, I just want to say goodbye. Please, I can't do this unless I tell you goodbye. I can't leave like that." Desperation filled Sam's voice, more tears falling down his face, collecting to create dark spots on his t-shirt.

"No, Sam, you can't leave at all. No no no no no." Dean continued to shake his head refusing to listen.

Suddenly, Sam rose to his full height, crossing to Dean it two giant steps. He kneeled in front of the chair, grasping his older brother's face in his hands, forcing the shorter man to meet his eyes.

"Dean, look at me. I have to do this. I am doing this. You can't stop me. But please, can you just let me say goodbye?"

"But…" Dean could feel a suspicious liquid swimming in his eyes, denial in his head, and heavy on his tongue.

"No, Dean, there's nothing we can do. I resisted this time. It won't work again. I can feel it. I know. If I don't do this, I am going to become a monster, something we would hunt. I can't do that Dean. I won't give the demon the satisfaction. I can't make you do what you would have to do when I gave into his demands. I can't. I won't." Sam's eyes implored the green depths of his brother's, begging him to understand, but he wouldn't. Dean would never understand this. He couldn't understand something that left his brother in a place far away from him, someplace Dean couldn't go.

"Sammy, please…" Dean broke off, unable to continue. Okay, so apparently Dean Winchester cried too.

"Dean, I have to." Sam released his grasp on his brother's face and stood, pacing the length of the room in only a few steps, back and forth, back and forth. "I've got it all set up. I'm going to do it in a hospital, I won't tell you which one, and it won't be anywhere close, that much I will say. I'll find an empty ward, I've got the silencer, nobody will have to see me do it. If I do it there, it's easy to clean up, get things taken care of. I'll have a note saying that Bobby Singer is coming to identify the… I already left a note in his safe deposit box; hopefully he'll be there by tomorrow morning. He'll take care of everything. I told him you could be there for the burning if you want to be. I won't take that away from you. But he won't let you see me, I'll be covered. You don't have to do anything. You won't have to be involved in any way. I paid the kid who checked us in last night $200 bucks to come in and untie you tomorrow morning. I told him it was a prank. I know that's a long time and I know you'll be uncomfortable but I can't take the chance of you following me. Okay?" Sam looked up at Dean, a small flash of uncertainty in his eyes.

Tears streamed down Dean's face. Which each sentence, it felt like Sam was cutting off his air, taking more and more of his life away from him.

"No Sam," he whispered, "It's not okay. None of that is okay."

Sam stopped in front of Dean, head hanging, tears falling to their deaths more than six feet below to the stained hotel carpet.

"I'm sorry, big brother. I know how much this would hurt if you were saying it to me. I have to do this, don't you see, I have to."

"So that's why I'm tied up. So, I won't keep you from…"

"Yeah, that's why you're tied up. I thought about leaving while you were out…" At Dean's eyebrow raise, Sam blushed slightly, "Oh yeah, I sorta drugged you."

Dean's glare would have been laughable in any other moment but this one. After all, no one cowered at a glare interrupted by tears and quiet, almost silent sobs.

"I couldn't just leave. I didn't want you to spend the rest of your life regretting that you didn't get to say goodbye. I couldn't go without saying goodbye."

Again, Sam knelt on the floor in front of his brother. His giant hand cupped the back of Dean's neck and a small sad smile slipped across his face as he rested his other hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I know you hate chick-flick moments, but I can't go without saying what I need to say. Okay?" Sam stopped, waiting for acknowledgement from Dean, a sign that he was listening.

Dean nodded, no longer even attempting to stop the tears that fell down his face. He wanted to say something, begged his mind to form a coherent argument, had for the past ten minutes, but at the sight of his little brother's puppy dog eyes, even with the darkness he could still get his way, his mind halted. He shut down his thinking, and listened, knowing these would be the words that would run through his thoughts every second of every minute of every day for the rest of his life. God, he hoped it was a short "rest of".

"Dean, you are my hero. You have been the greatest big brother, the greatest friend I could ever have hoped to have. I can't even begin to say how glad I am that you came for me that day at Stanford. I know, Jessica died, but it would have happened eventually anyway, I know that now, I couldn't have stopped it. The thing is, that day; you gave me my brother back. These last few years have been amazing, even with dad and everything else that happened. We were a good team. We've always been a good team. I just…I wanted you to know that I don't regret joining up with you again. I couldn't. You're my big brother. You were the best big brother. And I love you." Sam voice hitched and he sucked in air, no longer able to continue. He let his arms fall to Dean's side, tightened them, and leaned in, giving him the closest thing to a hug the Winchester brothers had experienced shared since before puberty.

Dean sobbed openly, loud harsh gasps. He pressed his head into his brother's shoulder, grabbing the hand that fell behind the chair to meet his.

"Let me go, please Sammy. I won't stop you, I swear. Please little brother, at least let me give you a real hug. Please." Dean begged, unafraid of chick-flick moments all of a sudden. He just wanted to wrap his baby brother up in his arms and never let go. Maybe if he could do that, none of this would be real.

"I can't Dean," Sam breathed into his shoulder, "I wish I could but we both know you won't let me walk out of that door."

Dean couldn't deny it so he just pressed his head harder into Sam's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to put his whole being into this moment. His tears joined Sam's on the blue shirt just as he felt Sam's tears on his own.

They remained this way for a matter of time, neither was sure how long. It could have been hours, though it was probably only a few minutes. Just two hundred and forty seconds, not long, not long enough to help either one of them come to terms with what was about to happen. Not long enough at all.

Sam stirred in his embrace, gently shrugging off Dean's head.

"I have to go," he whispered.

"No," Dean's voice was hoarse, his hand gripped tightly to Sam's, unwilling to let go.

"Dean," Sam's quiet voice filled his ear. The twenty-four year old didn't move his hand, didn't try to squirm out. His voice just filled with certainty. In one word, he asked Dean to release his hand, to let him go, to understand. And he did, Dean let go.

Sam stood up, stepped over to the door and opened it. He hesitated briefly on the threshold, giving Dean the opportunity he was waiting for.

"Sammy?"

He turned his head to look back at his brother, Sam's eyes tired, body weary, shoulders slumped to bear a weight he should never have had to carry.

Dean own face mirrored the same hard life. He steadied his water-filled gaze on his brother, bolstering his calm long enough to look unfazed one last time at the man who was once a baby that he pulled from a fire.

"I love you too."

A small sound like a whimper escaped Sam's lips. He nodded, turned, took a step, and shut the door behind him.

Dean sat, strapped to a chair, watching him walk away.

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Well, I hope this wasn't a total waste of time. The title is part of a quote by Ronal Tierney-

"Time by minutes slips away, First the hour, then the day, Small the daily loss appears, Yet soon it amounts to years"

Please read and review.


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